


tick tock & honesty

by Emilys_List



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-30
Updated: 2004-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:36:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilys_List/pseuds/Emilys_List
Summary: Sequel toTrying to Fight Gravity





	tick tock & honesty

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**tick tock & honesty**

**by:** emily’s list

**Pairing(s):** josh/donna  
**Category(s):** romance.  
**Rating:** let's just be safe, and go with ADULT  
**Disclaimer:** many aspects of this story, including characters, do not belong to me. however, i will take credit and/or blame for the creation of isabella moss.  
**Summary:** sequel to "trying to fight gravity"  
**Spoiler:** mild spoilers for the portland trip.  
**Author's Note:** (1) i have turned sam into the governor of california. i had my doubts about it at first, but if the terminator can be governor, why can't sam? (2) i stole/used the lovely lyrics from stevie wonder's "isn't she lovely." (3) Tree Top Toys is a real place that i have never been to, but it sounds like a cool place to visit, so i suggest going there if you're in the d.c. area (4) thank you to those who gave excellent feedback about "trying to fight gravity." i really appreciated hearing the good  & the bad :D (5) this story takes place in may 2005. 

title: tick tock & honesty (sequel to trying to fight gravity) author: emily's list rating: let's just be safe, and go with ADULT spoilers: mild spoilers for the portland trip. pairing: josh/donna category: romance. disclaimer: archive: word. just tell me first. author's note: 

tick tock & honesty (sequel to trying to fight gravity) by emily's list 

My alarm clock is punishment, as it should be. My alarm is alarming. Otherwise, I would never make it to work on time. 

Donna's alarm clock is the sound of a babbling brook. It is amazing to me that she will hear the sounds of water and immediately wake up. I've never actually witnessed her waking up to her alarm, but allegedly, it happens every morning. 

Much to my dismay, the sounds of a babbling brook have just awoken me this morning. 

I glare at her clock, its green digital numbers taunting me with 6:30. On a Saturday morning, when I don't have to be in until much later. "Motherfucker," I mumble to Donna's clock. My face falls into the pillow, and I stay in this position until I realize she hasn't turned it off. 

This revelation is followed by the concept that Donna is not in bed. 

I sit up, rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands. "Donna?" I call out. 

No answer. 

Without getting out of bed, I start to search for my boxers, which I triumphantly find hanging from a light fixture. "Donna?" I put on my boxers and wander down the hallway to the rest of the apartment. She is nowhere to be found. 

I enter the kitchen and find a note on the table. Of course I can hardly read it with her seven-year-old penmanship, and it's just easier to call her cell. 

I search for the phone, and quickly dial her cell phone number. It starts to ring, and I switch the phone to the other ear. I smile when I think about how I'd like to greet her. 

"Hello." 

"Wherever you are, I need you to return home immediately so I can do that thing with my tongue where I--" 

"Josh, I don't think that's a good idea," says a voice that sounds misleadingly like Donna's, but with a bit more of a Midwestern accent. "After all, you're sleeping with my sister, and I'm married. But if any of those situations change, I'll be sure to let you know." 

Suddenly, I am greeted with an embarrassment that only a Moss woman could put upon me. "Hello, Isabella," I say with forced politeness. "By any chance, is Donna there? Wherever you are?" 

I can hear Isabella choking back laughter, and repeating to Donna what I said. "Yeah. She's right here, hold on." 

+++++ 

Isabella passes the phone to me, and I start to smile as we wait for the baggage. 

"I heard what you said, Josh. It's 6:30 in the morning. Surely it's too early to be propositioning my sister for sex." 

"I was not propositioning anyone but the person whose phone I called. Your phone, a phone that I expected you would pick up and where the hell are you and it's 6:30 and your water faucet alarm woke me up. And you weren't there. And this note, written in Japanese characters, was really helpful." He sounds much more whiny and grumpy than he usually does. "And where are you?" he asks, his whine beginning to sound pitiful, and for some reason, vaguely arousing. 

"If you had stopped to read my exquisite penmanship, you would have read that I'm picking Isabella up from the airport, and that I'll be back soon, and you should be dressed when she comes in as she would probably appreciate that. Of course, speaking for myself, I don't care either way" 

"You're ambivalent about what I'm wearing." 

"I wouldn't say that." 

"You care about what I'm wearing?" 

"Less is more. That's my motto." 

"That is not your motto. You don't have one." 

"Josh, as much as I'd like to argue about my motto -- which is, by the way, less is more -- I need to grab Izzie's bags. I'll call you when we're on our way." 

"Okay. Hey, why is she coming to stay with us?" 

"I told you about this last week! We had an entire conversa-- Josh, hold on a sec." I try desperately to drag her suitcase off of the belt. This should be easier in some way. My pregnant sister just smirks as I struggle. 

"Donna, why is your breathing so heavy? It's kinda turning me on." 

I pull the bag off the carousel, almost falling backwards from the exertion. "It's nothing. I'm strong. I didn't have any trouble with her bag. The muscle definition in my arms -- incomparable." 

"Are you worried that I'm going to make fun of you because you're a girl, Donna? It's okay that you can't lift heavy things. That's why we take care of these things." 

"'We' as in strong, burly men? I'm the one who's usually carrying your luggage, jackass." 

Isabella mouths to me, "One more bag." I sigh. 

"Josh, I have to go. Call you later." 

"But Donna, I'm feeling very codependent right now." 

I hang up on him and stare at the monstrosity that is my sister's second bag. 

+++++ 

I shower. And get dressed. 

And even attempt to make the bedroom look like earth shattering sex was not had last night in the bed, next to the bed, against three walls, and on the night stand (which subsequently broke, considering she and I were lacking foresight at that particular moment). 

I throw away the night stand, and vow to buy her a sturdier one. For, you know, whatever. 

+++++ 

When we get situated in the car, that's when her barrage of questions begins. 

"How long has this been going on? I thought it was just sex, not stay-over-and-then-be-seductive-during-a-phone-call sex." 

I glance at her as we drive down to the first level of the parking deck. "It's not just sex." 

"Is it good?" 

"Yes." We pull up to the ticket booth. 

"And that's all you're going to say? Yes? Is the sex amazing? I hope it's amazing, that will lead to better stories. Is the sex mediocre? That will be sad, although the stories will be entertaining -- to me, probably not to you." 

I pay the woman in the booth as she gives me a strange look, and I speed away. "How about you stop asking me about the sex?" 

She smiles and rummages through her tote bag. "There's little possibility of that." Isabella finds what she was looking for, a CD, and pops it into the player. 

I smile. "I broke my copy of-- well, Josh broke my copy of this one. He was disdainfully removing it from my CD player and he dropped it." I let Joni Mitchell drift through my head. 

"So the sex is mind blowing. Or you know, whatever else it's blowing." 

"Izzie." 

She looks at me, and pats my thigh. "You're going to tell me eventually, you might as well just tell me now." 

I turn the volume down a bit. "It used to be good... it was just a release. Now, it's developed into something more, so..." I grin, thinking about how we broke my night stand. "It's good. And by good, I mean I have no vocabulary for how good it is, so I'll just stick with good." 

"And his penis?" 

"How is Katherine? Did she arrive in Switzerland yet?" 

"You cannot answer a question about your boyfriend's penis by asking me how my wife is." She lays one hand on her extended abdomen and taps absentmindedly on herself. "She's fine. She arrived, she misses me. Now get on with it." 

"Isabella." 

"What? All I want to know is how big is penis is. It's been years since I've seen one, and I'm interested in heterosexual sex. Not for myself. But as a cultural artifact," she explains. 

I don't look at her, but I know exactly what expression is on her face. "His penis," I respond, "is none of your business." 

"Donnatella, I don't think it's asking a lot for a little bit of information about Josh Lyman's penis. I went to that website, that link you e-mailed me. Women and men are speculating, and you're the only woman who can answer their questions." 

"I'm not the only woman." 

We stop at a light, and Isabella wrinkles her nose up at me. "Are you telling me he's a slut?" 

I press on the gas to escape that word. "No." 

"Did he sleep with a hundred women or something? Is he the Wilt Chamberlain of the West Wing?" 

I sigh. "Izzie. You're going to stop this at some point, right?" 

"That depends. How big--" 

"Isabella, leave me alone!" I yell. 

She sucks in her breath, and turns, open mouthed to me. "When did you start acting so high and mighty?" 

"When did you start teasing me about my sex life?" 

"Since always. Although now, considering that you actually have a sex life again--" 

"Look," I stop her, "I am willing to talk to you. But this serious relationship thing with Josh is just... too new. I don't know how I feel, so I'm not comfortable yet." Satisfied, I turn up Joni Mitchell. 

She stares at me, and my level of discomfort continues to rise. Finally, I snap, "What?" 

"We're thinking of naming the baby Gaia." 

"You're kidding." 

"Well, I don't know, Donna. We just picked the name, but it's still new, and I'm not really comfortable discussing it yet." She stares out the window, away from me, her arms folded across her chest. "I can't remember the last time you and I ever talked seriously about sex. I make inappropriate comments about the male anatomy, and you make bad jokes about the Indigo Girls. That's what we do," she says softly. 

I can't look at her as I'm turning, but I nod in her direction. "We haven't talked about sex in awhile. You know, because I've been too busy actually having the sex, and you have a spouse, so..." 

She smiles brightly. "I've been having a lot of sex. Want to talk about it?" 

"No," I reply. 

"I think you've gotten uptight. You're such a square." 

"I'm not the one who called someone a 'square.'" She sighs. I wonder if I should begin to regret asking her to stay with me. We both pause in our mutual annoyance, and I listen to the music. 

". . .I'm going to see the folks I dig/I'll even kiss a Sunset pig. . ." 

Isabella sits up in her seat, and shakes out her shoulders. "Have you ever been in love? I've never asked you that." 

I shift in my seat. "Yeah." 

"Well. The White House has really improved your elocution. Okay. After Brad? Ugh. Brad Cook, that worthless piece of shit. Do you know I actually saw him? Well, I didn't tell you because I knew it would probably agitate you, but this story of violence is just too good. I bumped into him in the Theatre Distinct and he had the audacity to ask for your number. I told him to go to hell. And he thought I was kidding AND he touched my stomach to ask about the baby. And then he asked where my husband was, so I punched him." 

"Izzie." 

"Donna, it was barely a tap," she assures me. Then, "He was probably quite bruised, but he's too much of a macho asshole to tell someone that a pregnant woman punched him." 

I shake my head. This could be funny, but I refuse to encourage her. 

"Anyway... what was I talking about? Brad Cook." She scowls for a moment, and her face drops. 

"It's funny," I say, although it's really not funny. For some reason, it still stings. "I haven't heard his name in years. Whenever someone mentions him, it's usually just Dr. Freeride." 

She looks at me, and her eyes widen. "People talk about him to you?" 

"Yeah. Josh mentions it -- frequently -- to illustrate the point that I attract men incapable of being human." 

"Hey. What about him?" 

"Well, he's stopped saying that to me. I'm sure he feels that I'm now cured, and only attract quite high quality men." 

"Yeah, okay, I didn't mean that," she says, turning the volume down. "What I meant was, what about Josh? Are you in love with Josh?" 

"... I'm sorry, what did you say?" 

"That's odd. You didn't answer my question. How out of character." 

"You didn't punch Brad, did you." 

"No," she replies sadly. "It would've been a triumphant moment for me, and a victory to you by proxy, but I didn't. I wanted to, but I didn't . You know, my whole annoying nonviolence thing." She leans her seat back, just a bit, and my eyes dart to her before returning to the road. 

"You okay?" 

She shakes her head. "Yeah. I'm fine. I mean, I'm annoyed that you won't talk to me about this Josh thing, but that's fine. Exclude me." 

"Isabella, I am NOT excluding you, I am just trying to--" 

"Oh, shut up. I'm just teasing you. I'm nosy, and I care about you. I just want to know that you're happy." 

I try to repress a smile. It probably doesn't work. 

"And I don't mean post-coitus happy, although that's fine too. I just want to make sure that this thing with Josh is good." She lays her head back, and closes her eyes. 

I drive, with only Joni Mitchell occasionally interrupting my thoughts with "oohhing." 

I hate when my sister pulls this with me. She goes off on me, half-kidding, and then she falls asleep or walks out of a room, or moves to Spain (that only happened the one time). 

As the CD returns to track one, my cellphone begins to simultaneously ring and vibrate. With one hand I flip it open, and press it to my ear. 

"Yeah." 

"You shouldn't have picked up your phone." 

"Then why did you call me, Josh?" 

"It's illegal to drive while talking on a cellphone. Aren't you a federal employee?" 

"Uhm, what does that have to do with it?" 

"Shouldn't you be held to a higher standard?" 

"Me, specifically. I alone should be held to that higher standard. Did you get dressed?" 

"Yeah." Then, "Hey, don't ask me that." 

"Why?" 

"You're doing that mothering thing again." 

"When am I not doing that mothering thing?" 

"Well. Last night. When you weren't doing the mothering thing, and you were doing the orgasm thing." 

"I did that several times." 

"How many is several?" 

"You should probably be keeping count. I'll be home in ten minutes." 

"Okay. See you then. Hey, is your sister still there?" 

I look beside me. "Where else would she be?" 

"I dunno. I just didn't hear her evil cackle." 

"Josh, Izzie does not have an evil cackle." 

"Yeah. She does. I heard it half an hour ago." 

"Because you threatened her with oral sex." 

"I was threatening YOU with oral sex. And was very particular, too, in my threat." 

"What did you say. Particularly." 

"Should've picked up your phone, Donna." 

I lick my lips absentmindedly. It is 7:03 AM, and I am anticipating sex with Josh very soon. Of course, that may be difficult, taking into consideration the pregnant woman snoring next to me. 

"Hey. You there?" 

"Yeah," I mumble. "What are you doing?" 

"Uh, working." 

"Why?" 

He's silent for a moment. "Because I'm waiting for you to come home." 

Somewhere inside me, I am repressing a feminine 'awwww.' "That's very sweet of you," I say. 

"Thank you." I can hear him shuffling papers. 

"Go to bed," I tell him. 

"Let me remind you that I was ordered, half an hour ago, to get dressed and make this apartment appropriate for your sister." 

I pull on to my street. "Josh, I never said that to you." 

"Okay, well I appointed myself to make this apartment appropriate. And do you know why?" 

"I picked up this morning before I left." 

"...and when you say, 'I picked up,' you mean you did not pick up the remnants of our night stand plus broken dishes?" 

"We didn't break any dishes, Josh." 

"I don't know, Donna. We had a lot of sex last night. A dish or two might have been smashed during the lovemaking." 

"Our lovemaking did not break any dishes." I park the car, and turn to Isabella who is now wide awake. "I'm here, Josh. I'll be up in a minute." 

My sister unbuckles her seat belt, and looks up towards the apartment building. "I'm gonna be honest. I'm sort of scared of you right now" 

+++++ 

Josh must have eagerly ran down the stairs to meet us, but he's trying to act suave. Which he never does well. "Hey Isabella," he calls to her, standing on the stairs. 

"Hey Josh. How's it going? Wanna help a pregnant woman out of the car?" She opens the car door and smiles at him. It's now my sole responsibility to lug the two one ton bags out of the car. 

"Hey Josh. After you help my sister -- who doesn't need any help -- get out of the car, would you like to assist me?" 

He glances over where I stand behind the car. "Yeah, okay. How many months until the baby is born?" he asks, taking Izzie's arm as she climbs out of the car. 

Maybe she did need help, she's sort of waddling when she walks. 

"Two. Kate and I are freaking out." 

"I'd imagine. Do you have any names picked out?" 

"Sarah for a girl, that's what we're thinking. And Liam for a boy." 

"Liam? Is that leaning too much to the Moss si--" 

"Josh?" I ask politely. They look over to me, bewildered. "Sorry to interrupt this little La Leche meeting, but perhaps you can lift a bag?" 

He comes to the back of the car. When he reaches me, he puts his hands on my cheeks and leans in to kiss me. These are gestures I haven't gotten used to yet, but I still thoroughly enjoy them. Josh grabs Izzie's suitcase from the trunk, and I watch him strain with it a little bit. Ha. "You know, Donna, I don't know what La Leche is." 

"It involves breast-feeding," Izzie informs us from the curb. "Josh doesn't have breasts, so I think, Donna, your comment was inappropriate." He lifts the other bag out of the car, and I feel satisfied that he makes a face when lifting it. 

"These bags are so fucking heavy. Did you pack bricks?" 

"Yes, I packed bricks, Josh. I'm going to build my house out of bricks so you can't knock it down." 

"Your Three Little Pigs references are making you sound like somebody's mother," Josh tells her as he struggles with two bags. I try to take a bag, but he has to prove his manhood to me. Or whatever. 

"That is the idea of pregnancy. The result is being somebody's mother." She looks at me. "Is he going to pass out?" I shake my head. But then it occurs to me that it's possible. 

"Josh, let me carry a bag," I say soothingly. 

"Donna, leave me alone. I'm fine. I'm more than fine. I can handle this. I'm a man." He walks up the stairs slowly, which is when Izzie starts laughing hysterically. 

"Josh, I knew this visit would be entertaining," she says in the middle of a laugh. I take my sister's arm as we trail behind Josh who is slowly carrying the bags upstairs. 

+++++ 

"Donna, where are we?" Isabella asks we enter the apartment. 

"This is my apartment," I answer. "Oh. Well. I moved in with Josh." Isabella looks around the room, examining the furniture. 

"You didn't tell me you moved in with Josh," she says. I give her a weak smile. 

"It's only been a month." 

"Oh. I'm sorry your phones and e-mail weren't working for a month. That must have been an inconvenience." She goes over to a photo of herself and Kate on their wedding day. She smiles at the picture, but then shoots an angry look at me. "We can fight about this now, if you'd like." 

Josh eyes the bags and I know he's weighing the pain of the heavy bags versus watching me argue with my sister. He wordlessly picks up the bags and drags them into the spare bedroom. 

"I moved in with him. We were... adjusting." 

"'Hey Izz. Josh and I moved in together. Talk to you soon.' That would have taken two seconds to write in an e-mail," she fires back, lowering herself onto the couch. 

"If I wrote it in an e-mail, you would be yelling at me for not calling you," I point out, sitting next to her. 

She lays her head on the back of the couch. "Yeah. You're probably right. I like the picture of Kate and I. Black and white. It's gorgeous." 

I lean forward with my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands. "How do you do this to me... You're always doing this to me." 

"Doing what?" 

"Isabella!" 

She looks at me innocently. "What?" 

"You're a grown woman. You cannot fight angrily with me for thirty seconds and stop. You've been doing this to me forever." She lays down on the couch, draping her legs over my lap. 

"This is how I am," she says. 

I look at her, my hugely pregnant sister who is two months away from having a child. Yes, this is who she is. Sort of. I sigh. If I couldn't deal with her, I wouldn't have invited her here. Secretly, I love her mood swings. She's crazy but that's what is excellent about her. 

"I'm going to be an aunt in two months," I say softly, laying one hand on her extended stomach. "We'll have to go shopping. For cute baby things." 

She smiles at me and nods. "Fuzzy things with ducks on them." She looks over the couch. "Where's Josh?" 

"He's hiding," I tell her, sliding out from underneath her legs. "Are you hungry? Do you need a nap or--" 

"Yes. A nap is good," she replies, pulling the afghan over her legs. Izzie closes her eyes. A faint smile stays on my face as I leave the living room and wander into the guest room. Josh is laying on the bed with one hand grasping his cellphone and one arm thrown over his forehead. I walk towards him and realize he's lightly snoring. Which brings the total of sleeping people in my home to two. I am not one of them, so someone has to suffer. 

I brush my fingertips across the lines on his face and his eyes slowly open. "I was sleeping, Donna." He closes his eyes. 

Not in the mood to be ignored, I sit on the bed and lean over to kiss him, which I do quite expertly. The arm that was laying across his forehead comes up to the back of my head and lightly holds my head in place. "Mmm," he mumbles when I pull away. 

"Were you hiding out in here?" 

"No. Well, yes." He holds up his phone. "Leo called. I've got to go in earlier than I thought. I'm sorry." 

I pull him up so he's sitting on the bed next to me. "So Leo called and you fell asleep?" 

"I blame your water thing on my lack of sleep." 

"My water thing?" 

"Alarm," he says, annoyed. "It does that trickling thing and suddenly it sounds like there's a waterfall on my head." 

"That's the intent," I tell him, laying one hand on his thigh. He gives me a kiss. 

"I'm sorry. I would love to stick around and be verbally berated by your sister, but there's a thing." Josh gets up and starts for the door. 

"Do you need me to come in too?" He shakes his head, no. "It's just as well, Josh. We're going to be shopping for fuzzy bunny things." 

He looks confused and partially disgusted. "I don't know what that means, and please don't tell me." I rise to meet him before he walks out to the living room. He's standing in the doorway when I kiss him. "I love you," he mumbles into my mouth. 

I lean against the door frame, my arms behind my back. "Ditto." 

"You know, you can only get away with that so many times, Princess Leia." 

"Luke Skywalker said that." 

"I don't want to imagine saying I love you to Luke," he says, closing the space between our bodies. 

"You're imagining me in a gold bikini, aren't you." 

"When am I not?" He kisses me, and his hands creep up under my shirt, stroking my back. 

"When you go into your meeting with Leo, I suggest that you don't think about me in a gold bikini," I suggest helpfully. I take his hand and drag him to the door. 

"That's why I keep you around. You have a plentiful amount of good ideas." He kisses me once again when I open the front door. 

"Okay, you have to go, Josh." 

"'Kay." 

"When the Chief of Staff tells you to go in, you're supposed to, you know, go. Right away." 

"Fine." 

"We need to send Joey Lucas a present." Josh pulls away from me. "We need to send her baby a present," I clarify. "We never did that, and it's rather late, the baby's probably a year old now. But I'll pick something up today." 

"I don't understand, why are we sending Joey Lucas a present?" 

"She had a baby." 

"Yes, I realize that. Why would we--" 

"Josh, go to work and don't worry about it." I lean in to kiss him one last time. "Besides, she's married and we're living together, so I feel full of good cheer." 

He stands in the doorway, still rather confused. "There's something sort of crazy about you. I'll call when we're done." 

"Okay." 

"Bye." 

"Bye." We're standing here staring at each other, for reasons beyond my comprehension. 

"Love you." 

"Love you too." 

"Oh, Josh, for fuck's sake, will you leave already?" Isabella yells from the couch. 

He shakes his head. "All that anger can't be good for the fetus," he calls to her. "Goodbye, Isabella." He smiles at me as he walks down the hallway, searching for his keys in his pocket. 

I shut the door and face my sister. "You two are gross, Donna. If this is going to happen every morning combined with my morning sickness, I don't know what I'm going to do." 

"Well, for starters, we leave together in the mornings. We work together? Just in case you forgot." I walk into the kitchen. Our kitchen. I sort of hate everything about it. I start making coffee. "And it's not gross, especially in light of all the making out you and Kate did at Christmas." 

Izzie wanders into the kitchen. "We weren't making out." I watch as she pulls out a chair and takes about five minute to sit down in it. I shudder at what pregnancy does to one's body. "We are very affectionate . There's a difference." 

"Does affection indicate tongue?" I pull out a mug from the cupboard. "Because, you know, that's what I--" I turn around, leaning against the counter. "I'm actually done with this conversation. What can we buy for the baby?" 

"I need some orange juice, Donnatella. Uhm, I'm not sure. Clothes and stuff. Kate and I started shopping, but if you just want to spoil your niece or nephew starting now, that's fine." 

I go to the fridge and start pulling out necessary items. "I'm definitely ready to start now. Fuzzy farm animals and such." 

"Hey, who's Joey Lucas?" I almost drop the orange juice. But I don't. I carefully carry the juice and milk to the counter. I set them all down and pretend like I didn't just have that reaction. 

"Joey Lucas is the woman who does the polling--" 

"The one who doesn't need to change her towels when they get married because of the... monogram thing?" I pour her juice into a glass and hand it to her. "Sometimes I worry for you." 

"Don't you need an entire breakfast?" I ask, horrified. I have no clue what a pregnant woman needs. She waves her hand at me. 

"Not a big deal. I'll buy us breakfast. So you're sending this ex-flame of Josh's a baby present?" 

I stare at the coffee maker. "Yes." 

"I love when you open up to me like this," she says sarcastically, holding out her glass to me for more juice. I pour. "Why are you sending her a present?" 

"She wasn't an ex-flame," I correct. "She was a possible flame. She wasn't even a flame, she was a... flicker." 

"What did you do to mess it up for him?" she asks brightly. 

"I gave him my blessing and begged him to ask her out." 

"Ah, yes that's right. I seem to recall, 'I just want Josh to be happy' bullshit. You know I didn't believe you for a second." 

"I do want Josh to be happy. If he was happy with Joey, then I would have been... okay, less than happy, but I could have mustered up some happiness for him." I pour my coffee into my cup. "But Joey Lucas has a baby and Josh screams my name when he comes, so a hypothetical situation is unimportant." 

My sister raises an eyebrow. "What I'm wondering is when you became so devious. Who thinks of sabotaging someone's relationship by being overwhelmingly supportive?" She drains her juice glass and holds it out to me. 

I look at it disdainfully. "What are you, six? How much juice do you drink?" 

"As much as I want. I'm pregnant," she says smugly. I grab the carton from the counter and set it down in front of her. 

"Try not to drink all of it... but you probably will. Where was I? I wasn't trying to be sabotage anything. It just worked out nicely. So we're going to buy Joey Lucas a beautiful, extravagant present that says, 'Thank you for losing interest in Josh! Enjoy your new child.'" 

"Donnatella, I know of no presents that say that." 

I sip my coffee. "Something pastel and fluffy ought to do the trick." 

"Isn't this sort of unnecessary?" Izzie asks me. I ponder that for a moment. 

"Yes. But it's also nice. I'm just kidding about the losing interest in Josh thing." 

"Yeah, okay," she scoffs. 

"It's a nice thing to do to send her a gift," I insist. 

"And you want it to say from Josh and Donna." 

I sigh. "Izzie, when did I get like this?" 

"Yeah. I don't know. It's sort of weird. Let's get something to eat." 

"Izzie," I say, helping her out of her chair, "I'm serious. I wigged out on Josh last year about Amy Gardener, and now I'm being possessive and sending gifts to be mean to Joey Lucas, oh my God I'm turning into Josh!" I shriek. My sister puts her hands on her body where her hips used to be. 

"Some women do these things, Donna, because they are jealous. Why does it have to be about him?" Izzie turns and walks out of the kitchen. 

"Even if it was simple jealousy, it's still about him. It's like I'm trapped," I tell her, trailing her to the guest room. 

Izzie shakes her head. "Jealousy isn't just about the other individual . It's about our own insecurities and a need for control. And you definitely have insecurities and control issues." She rummages through her bag for something. 

I narrow my eyes at her. "Don't you need a nice, long, QUIET nap?" 

She triumphantly produces a beautiful, knee-length corduroy jacket. "Liz Lange. Makes you want to be pregnant just so you can wear it, doesn't it." 

Suddenly I hear "Isn't She Lovely" playing somewhere in my brain. "Yeah," I mumble, as I try to exorcise Stevie Wonder from my head. 

There. 

"Hey, I don't need to be pregnant to wear it." She hands me the jacket and I slowly slip it on. I sigh happily. "I'm not giving this back." 

Izzie tugs on the sleeve. "It's twenty sizes too big for you, Twiggy. Give it back." I remove her jacket, mumbling profanities at my sister. 

"I need a new jacket." 

Isabella pulls her jacket on, and ties it at the waist. "A new jacket and extravagant presents for two babies. This is going to be quite an expensive day for you." 

I walk out of the room. "Let's swing by the White House and get Josh's card. It can be expensive for him." My sister follows me slowly. 

"What IS wrong with you?" she asks, staring blankly at me. "It's so materialistic and stereotypical of you but of course I love the idea of spending Josh's money. Let's go!" 

+++++ 

The bullpen is relatively quiet today, a contrast to most Saturday afternoons. The only sound is of Josh lecturing someone on the phone. 

CRASH. "Oops," I hear, turning to see Izzie trying to pick up a messy pile of folders that was once an organized pile. 

"Just leave it, don't worry," I say quietly. 

"All of a sudden, there's this beach ball attached to the front of my body and... sorry," she mutters. 

"Matt, I understand what you're saying. Yes. Yes. You can't just come out and... yeah, that's funny, Matt, can I finish my thought? You can't just SAY all of a sudden that you... Just wait on it. Just wait!... Well I'm glad you fell in love, I hear violins and everything, good for you. Don't introduce it... Yeah, I fell in love too, but Donna and I aren't -- I just told you about Donna, didn't I... Shut up... Okay, fine. We're not done with this, though. Have somebody call Donna on Monday to set up an appointment... Okay. Thanks, Matt." He comes walking out of his office, and right into me. 

"This is bizarre on many levels," he mumbles, continuing past me to my desk. 

"Who was on the phone?" 

He turns around. "Were you just eavesdropping?" 

"Yes," I reply. "Although I really only heard you tell someone named Matt that you fell in love with me." I watch Izzie wander into Josh's office. "Who's Matt?" 

"Matt Skinner," he tells me, motioning at my computer to warm up faster. "He wants to introduce an amendment defining marriage as a union between two people." 

"That's a change." 

"The change's name is Dennis." 

I smile at my computer screen. "That's great." He slaps the monitor . 

"I couldn't be more annoyed at this present moment. Your computer sucks, and Matt Skinner wants to change the rules so he can benefit from them." 

"Why are you using my computer?" 

"I may have spilled something on the keyboard. It sort of fizzled. It's not really--" 

"Matt Skinner is a pompous ass!" I hear from Josh's office. I go and look at Izzie. "He's a traitor to the gay community." 

"Not anymore, now he wants to make good," I inform her. 

"I know, I heard you." 

"I assumed you only heard his name." 

"You assumed wrong. I heard the whole thing." She leans back in Josh's chair. "I'm pregnant, I didn't lose my hearing. Hey, I thought we were stealing his credit card, and HEY!" she calls to Josh. "That amendment is stupid, it's not going to go anywhere. Thirty-eight states won't ratify and it will never get that far anyway. It's going to die a slow death in the House. But Matt will look okay. Finally." She spins slowly in his chair. 

I look at Josh, with vague thoughts of watching a tennis match. "Yeah, it won't get past the House, but he... I don't know. I'm going online to look something up." 

I look to Izzie. "You're going ONLINE to look something up? Aren't you Senior Staff for the President? Shouldn't you know this stuff?" 

I look to Josh. "Tell her to shut up," he asks. 

"I heard that!" my sister bellows from inside his office. 

He shakes head, and begins to type. I sit down on my desk, facing him. "We came here to fetch your credit card." 

Josh looks up at me suspiciously. "Why?" 

"Because you love me and I'm going to buy things that I can't afford." 

"And I can...?" 

"You can give me your credit card." 

"No. I can afford it?" 

"Oh. Yes." 

"What are you intending on--" 

"An extravagant gift for Joey Lucas's child, a bid to buy the affections of my future niece or nephew, and something for me." Josh takes out his wallet and removes his credit card. He goes to give me his Amex, but stops. 

"What are you going to buy yourself?" he asks, tapping the card on my knee. 

"A corduroy jacket. Izzie has a cool jacket and I want one." 

He frowns at me for a second, then turns back to the screen. "You serious?" I lean down so my mouth is close to his ear. 

"I'll buy black underwear, too." 

He hands me the card. "Go." 

I sit there for a moment, watching him type furiously. "Are you really giving me your credit card?" 

"Why are you still here and not buying black underwear?" 

"It just seems very intimate, I don't know. You shouldn't give me the card." 

He stops typing and turns the chair to face me. "It seems intimate... to give you my American Express card. Does that somehow rank higher on the intimacy scale than what we did last night?" 

I squirm under his gaze. "No... it just seems very couple-ish." 

"We're a couple," he remarks, running his hand up and down my calf. 

I melt, just a little. My mother would be so disappointed. "I came here to get your credit card and show Izzie the West Wing. And to see you, something I feel very embarrassed about so please don't say anything." He opens his mouth to speak. "Don't!" 

"Donna, I was just--" 

"Don't," I say firmly. 

"You see me every waking moment. You missed me after an hour and a half?" 

"I'm jealous of Joey Lucas." 

He stands up and walks towards his office. "Why?" 

"I was talking to Izzie, and I realized that--" 

"Oh my God." Josh turns around and walks towards me. All of a sudden he's very nervous. He stands in front of me, making room to stand in between my legs. "You're pregnant. That's so... I mean it's a shock, but..." He hugs me. "It's great, Donna," he breathes into my ear. 

Well I feel good about ruining this for him. "I hate to get you all wound up about your masterful procreation skills. But I'm not pregnant." Josh backs away. 

"So, coming here... being jealous of Joey... talking to Izzie..." Is he disappointed? 

"I wanted to tell you I'm sorry I sabotaged your flicker with Joey, but it was really in your best interest. And a large part of the reason that we're sending her a present is so I can write from Josh and Donna on the card. And, you know, be smug. Because I'm turning into you." 

"So you're not pregnant," he says slowly. "And you came here to talk about Joey Lucas?" He shuts his eyes. I kiss him before sliding off the desk. 

"That's exactly it, and with that weight off my chest, I bid you a fond farewell." I walk to his office to find my sister asleep in Josh's chair. We watch her from the doorway, and Josh tucks his arm around my waist. 

"I'd like a baby." 

"No problem, Amex buys anything... Ow. Pinching hurts." We continue to watch Izzie. "Do want to have a baby? You seemed... excited." 

He shrugs, leaning against the door frame and releasing me from his pinching hand. "We can't have a baby now." 

"Who said you and I are going to have children?" Josh looks at me for a moment, like I've given him a situation he'd never considered. 

"I have calls to make," he tells me, his head down as we walk into his office. He stands over his desk, reading through a file. 

"Isabella. Wake up." I walk over to where she is delicately drooling on her beautiful coat. I shake her arm gently, and she starts whining. 

"Donnaaaaaa go 'way, I wanna sleep." 

"Josh needs his chair, Izz." 

"Like I givva crap about that." Her eyes open wide, and she groans. "I want pancakes." 

My eyes fix on Josh's. "You want a baby? This is how it would go." 

He helps Izzie out of the chair, and settles himself down in it. "And this is different from my current life how?" 

"Well I will look like a hippo. Like Izzie." My sister shoots me a look as if to say, 'If I could kick you, I would.' "I will also be graceful, like my sister. Like the hippos in Fantasia," I add hastily. 

"Donna, don't you have to go somewhere?" he asks irritably. 

"Yes, I do. Fuzzy baby things, a jacket and a present for you in the form of black lace." He doesn't look up. I walk over to his chair, and thread my fingers through his hair. "Are you going to be grumpy with me all day because we're not reproducing like bunnies?" I lean down to kiss him goodbye, but he ducks away. 

"'Who said you and I are going to have children?'" Except when he says it, it's meant to hurt me. 

"Josh! I was teasing you." 

"Donna, I have to call gay and lesbian groups and beg them not to back Matt's amendment. I have to... I have to tell them that the President supports them and their families one hundred percent, unless they want to get married in any state that isn't Massachusetts. Izzie, stop glaring at me. This isn't something I really relish, but look, here I go, dialing." 

Isabella looks like she's ready kick Josh's ass, so I pull her out of the room. "Josh, if you call one group, so help me God, I will kick your ass so hard--" 

"Yes, hello, can I speak with Brian Miller. This is Josh Lyman. Thank you." 

I poke my head into the office while trying to keep my sister at bay. "See you at home?" 

He nods and gives me a dismissive wave. Huh. 

+++++ 

I finish my phone call to the Rainbow Rights Coalition. Brian Miller told me that he appreciated the head's up, but that I was a complete jackass. So it really didn't go that well. 

I am ashamed to say that I have to go to Donna's desk and flip the rolodex open to Seaborn. I haven't talked to Sam in months. I used to know his number like the back of my hand. 

I retreat to my office with his private number; I plop down in my chair and dial. 

"You've reached Governor Seaborn's Palace of Lovemaking." 

It's been a really long time since I've spoken to Sam. 

Coming from the other end of the line, I hear him. "Meg, who is it? Why are you giggling like that, what did you-- you did the palace thing, didn't you. You know, only you think it's fu-- right. Hello?" 

"Good morning, Governor Seaborn." 

"Josh! Hey! Hold on. Meg, I can't concentrate when you do that. Go back to bed. Sorry, Josh. How are you?' 

"I'm fine. More importantly, how are you? And... Meg?" 

"Meg Sawyer." I hear Sam sigh happily, which is about as disturbing as it gets. "We've been seeing each other for three weeks." 

"And she's staying the night already?" 

"Unlike you, I start sleeping with someone before we hit that six year mark." 

I bite my lip. "Yeah," I lie. 

"Sorry to call so early, Sam." 

"Don't worry about it. We haven't actually gone to sleep yet," he tells me smugly. 

"So, tell me, Governor, how do you balance great power with being a sex god? It's something your constituents are dying to know." 

"Well, someday I'll write a book," he quips. "What can I do you for, Josh?" 

"Donna doesn't want to have my children." 

Sam is silent on the end of the line. "I'm sorry to hear that...?" 

"What?" 

"I don't know what to say." 

"You always know what to say. That's why I called." 

"Perhaps I can tell you why I don't know what to say." 

I lean back in my chair. "Yeah, that'll work." 

"For one thing, this thing is new between you. Donna has much of her career ahead of her, while you're pretty close to qualifying for AARP... I was expecting you to jump down my throat for saying that." 

"Yeah, I'm trying a new thing where I listen politely to what you're saying, and then when you finish I jump down your throat." 

"Oh. Okay. You're considerably older, which isn't a problem, but it puts you in very different places, professionally speaking. If Donna gets pregnant, you can still be Deputy Chief of Staff, but she'll have to leave and take care of a baby. That's a high price for her to pay so you can have a child." 

"It's called daycare, Sam, and it's not like she's just doing me a favor! This is a baby. For both of us. I'm talking about a family, Sam." I sound entirely too much like an episode of Full House... have I ever seen Full House? That's embarrassing. 

"I thought you were going to wait until I finished," Sam says as he interrupts my thoughts. 

"Changed my mind." 

"Can I continue?" 

"There's MORE? You know, I was sort of hoping that I could bitch and moan a little bit, and then you'd tell me I was right, and to go home now and impregnate Donna." 

I sound like a Viking. That's clear to me after the words left my mouth. 

"Josh?" Sam says softly. I slouch in my seat. 

"Yeah." 

"'Impregnate Donna?'" 

"I will now retract that statement, and shut up so you can continue." 

"Okay. Well, I'm going to have to call you old again, sorry to-- heck, I'm not sorry about calling you old. Nothing to feel ashamed about." Sam snickers, and when I see him next I will kick his ass. Old... "Donna just turned thirty, correct? Maybe she's not ready. Yes, she's with you and that's all great and good, but she's not married. She's not settled. None of that puts her in a good mood to start popping out babies. So to speak." 

"I don't want anyone to pop out babies. I'm talking one, two... four, whatever. I want to have children with Donnatella Moss, why is this such a big deal?!" 

"Listen, Meg is doing this slow striptease thing and I'm afraid that I'm going to hang up on you momentarily. Anything else?" 

"It's not a big deal. That's all I'm saying." 

I can almost hear Sam shaking his lust-addled head. "If you don't think it's a big deal, then there's your problem. Bye Josh. We'll talk soon. Take care." Click. I stare at the phone in my hand before hanging it up. 

"I don't have a problem," I say out loud, which is when I notice C.J. in my doorway. 

"I'd say that you have more than one problem, Josh. And maybe you can clarify what you mean by 'impregnate Donna.'" 

+++++ 

"So nothing too fluffy, okay, Aunt Donna?" 

"I wonder if you can train him or her to call me Aunt Donna with a British accent." 

"Just for your own amusement?" 

"Pretty much." We walk into Tree Top Toys, and I can tell Isabella is disappointed. 

"Okay, it's not really fuzzy in here." 

"It's a lot of books, Donna," she says quiet reverence. "You don't want my child to have fuzzy things to play with. You want her to have books and--" She stops speaking and looks at me with tears in her eyes. I smile uncomfortably. 

She hugs me, which is difficult to do with the child in her womb in between us, but we make do. "How did you find about this place?" she asks, wiping tears from her eyes. I'm not quite sure how I'm feeling about this abundance of hormones. 

"The President likes to sneak out and buy Christmas presents on his own, and he came here for his grandson. Josh and I came with him." 

"You and Josh came to a children's book store? Why would you do that?" she wonders, flipping through a copy of Eloise. My eyes light up. 

"Let me buy you the set," I say, grabbing every Eloise title off the shelf. 

"She's my idol," my sister sighs happily. 

"I know." I look through the illustrations and see what Isabella used to look like. Vaguely. I frown at the ceiling. "I keep hearing 'Isn't She Lovely' by Stevie Wonder." 

"Ooh, Ramona! Perhaps somewhere between Eloise and Ramona lies the explanation as to why I'm the way I am." She stops for a moment, and frowns. "I don't hear anything. You're losing it." 

I stare down at the book in Izzie's hands. "It's a baby. He or she -- by the way, can you just find out the sex already? -- he or she won't be able to pay attention to Ramona books quite yet. And what if you have a boy? I think you need to buy books about trucks or something." 

My sister gives me a mock glare. "Donnatella Moss, I am calling our mother." 

"What, about the trucks thing?" I ask absentmindedly. I'm reading through a book called My Hippie Grandmother, and I've decided to add it to the pile. Which is forming, heavily, in my arms. 

"My son or daughter should read amazing stories that challenge their imagination. I don't need to play on gender at all." 

I nod. "Okay." I wander off, looking at a display of a pig. "Who is Olivia?" 

"She's a pig, she's really cool. Look, I never said I don't want to have a boy. Yes, I know what it's like to be a girl, but I would be a wonderful mother to a boy, too, Donna. You're wrong." 

I think I like Olivia. She has a poster of Eleanor Roosevelt on her wall. "Okay, Izz." 

"You're not listening." 

"Not really." 

"Can I ask why--" 

"Yes," I stop her. "Because you're ranting and raving. Maybe we can get you some herbal tea?" 

She slumps into an overstuffed, velvet chair. "What would I do with a boy? You're right, he's going to want trucks and Kate and I..." 

I sit down on the wide arm of the chair, sitting the large stack of books on the floor next to me. "You and Kate are going to be good mothers. And you're going to love your baby, and he or she will play with trucks and dolls and mud and... whatever kids play with." I lean over and smooth her hair down. "I can't wait to see you as a mom." 

"Yeah?" 

I drape my arm around her shoulders. "You're so warm and loving, and,okay -- crazy, but you're going to be a wonderful mother. And I know you have doubts, which is completely normal. But I know this child will be loved and nurtured. I'm not worried." Suddenly, 'Isn't She Lovely' comes back into my head. I sigh. This is getting bothersome. 

Izzie takes a deep breath. "Okay. I can handle this. Let's buy the books and then go find cheesecake." She beams up at me. I wish it was possible to bottle her contentment right now. 

+++++ 

It's 11:30 PM. I haven't been to sleep at 11:30 since before I joined the campaign. Yet here I am in bed, wearing a shirt that smells like Josh. 

I'm trying to read my book, but I keep hearing 'isn't she lovely made from love' bouncing around my head. I sigh, turning out the light. Izzie fell asleep right after dinner and her nauseating call to Kate in which they actually had the argument of who would hang up first. 

I stare at the ceiling. It was supposed to be a relaxing day with my sister. 

I close my eyes and roll on to my side. It occurs to me that I'm not actually tired. I'm just bored. I don't have any work to do, which should be a pleasing thought. A Saturday night with no work. It's almost like I have a normal life. I'm thirty-one! I'm unmarried! I have zero responsibilities. 

Okay, I have about twelve hundred responsibilities. But I should be out with friends at a club, meeting a prospective partner! I should be drinking apple martinis and flirting and dancing. 

Instead I'm trying to go to bed at 11:30. And I'm waiting for him to come home. 

I flip my light on and open up Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Hmm. I wonder if I can find a recipe for butterbeer. That sounds good. 

"Is that a new one?" I don't look at him. His voice sounds tired. 

"There are no new ones," I reply with my mock sadness. I sneak a look at him as he strips off his shirt. I sigh. Loudly, apparently, because he turns and looks at me. 

"You okay?" He unzips his pants and pulls them off. My breathing is becoming shallow. 

What the hell is happening to me? I see this man naked every day of my life. I wouldn't say I'm getting tired of it, but it's just an occurrence. 

Except tonight, I can't take my eyes off of him and I may jump him at any minute. "You sure you're okay?" he asks as he enters the bathroom. I nod, and he closes the door. I try to read my book, but Harry, Ron and Hermoine just aren't holding my attention right now. 

He comes out of the bathroom, a t-shirt as the only addition to his wardrobe. And then he gets into bed, turns his back to me and mumbles goodnight. 

I turn my light off, laying my reading glasses on top of the book. I had to get glasses last month. As a result of Josh's peculiar proclivities, we had a week of sex with my glasses on. I'm staring at the ceiling, recalling a particular burst of sex that made my thighs ache for hours. 

"Yeah, you know what, no." I tap on his back. 

"Donna, I swear to God, if you want to tell me about Joey Lucas and her baby present, I will--" 

"Designer baby bottles from Sweden and a knit hat." 

"None of that makes sense. They live in Southern California. The baby doesn't need anything made of wool." 

"I was being cool. All the trendy moms with their Gucci diaper bags were going for the Swedish baby bottles and the hats." 'Isn't she lovely made from love' echoes through my head, but I shake it away. "Tell me what's bothering you." I smooth my hands down his tense shoulder blades. 

"Are you sure you want to talk about that? Wouldn't you rather discuss the wonderment that is Gucci diaper bags for another half an hour?" 

I take a deep breath and stare at his back. "I haven't seen you all day, and you come home smarmy. Josh, I want you to--" 

"Donna, I had to call seventeen groups about Matt's amendment. By the way, Isabella's boss says hello. I had to tell my sister-in-law's boss that I cannot help her organization in any shape or form. That I find preserving the President's image to be more important than her rights. I had to tell them that President Bartlet will not allow gay men and lesbians equality, but hey, he appreciated the vote you gave him when he was allegedly for gay rights. I had a very tiring day of acting like a Republican, so leave me the hell alone." 

I let it sink in for a minute. And then I climb on top of him, straddling his waist. He looks vaguely pissed. His eyes are wide open. "You know what's interesting about that little soliloquy you just did?" He blinks. "I let you go. I let you speak, I didn't interrupt. Did it feel good to get that off your chest?" Josh nods. "Okay, I'm glad. Please don't speak to me like that." He tries to speak, but I put my hand over his mouth. "It's my turn," I say softly. "Josh, I know you're angry and I know you feel... emotional about this because of Izzie. As you should. I know you feel like there's a conflict of interest, but no one's going to be angry with you. She may threaten to drop kick you, but it won't hurt that much when she does it. You decide policy for this administration, and you have to be very conscious of what the President seems to care about. I get it, Izzie gets it." I take my hand off his mouth. "You'll ask them not to back Matt, they'll ignore you, his amendment won't make it through the House, and you'll have done your job. It's sad, honey, but it's okay." 

I climb off of him. "And I like the way you called Izzie your sister-in-law." 

I settle into the bed, pulling the sheet up over my shoulders. He curses to himself and lets out a long sigh. I can feel him wrap one arm around my waist as he presses his face into my back. "I started making the calls when she was in the office. I feel like a schmuck," he says. I lay my arm over his, and I thread my fingers through his. Josh moves closer, putting his chin on my shoulder. I lean my head into his. "Did you just call me honey?" 

"Yeah." 

"And I called her my sister-in-law?" 

"Yup." 

"We're getting kind of weird, aren't we." 

I close my eyes. "I'd imagine so." 

+++++ 

Josh and I have been sharing a bed for about a year now. Every morning together is different. Sometimes I wake up to his hands skimming past my underwear and under my shirt; this would constitute a very nice morning. Other times, his snoring wakes me up -- which isn't as nice -- but it's not the most unpleasant way to wake up. No, the most unpleasant way to wake up is with someone repeatedly poking you in the ribs with torture as their main motive and "JOSH WILL YOU FUCKING STOP THAT?!" 

I feel a rush of cool air on my body as he throws the sheet back. 

"It's too hot! Why isn't the air conditioner on?" He gives me one last poke, and kisses my stomach through my t-shirt. 

"Go turn it on. I'm bruised," I mumble, turning away from him, pulling the sheet back up. 

"You wouldn't wake up," he says. And pulls the sheet off. 

I grit my teeth. I need a new approach. I roll over so I'm facing him, and I give him a sly grin. "Joshua," I whisper sensuously. "Come here." His eyes widen and he smiles as he inches over to me. I put my hand on his chest. "LET ME SLEEP!" I yell in his ear. 

He flips onto his back, sighing. "You punctured my eardrum. What's wrong with you?" I throw one arm over my eyes. "Hey, Donna, you're ignoring me." I throw out a snore for good measure. "It's so warm in here. It's like a sauna." 

"Turn. On. The air conditioner." 

"You know I'm pretty sure this can be considered emotional abuse. My woman doesn't care about my comfort." He runs his fingers lightly over my hip. "It would be hot if you got a tattoo. Right... here," he says, his fingers stopping on my pelvic bone. 

I give up my quest for sleep. I don't want to, but I'm being coerced by his fingers. "A tattoo of what?" I ask, turning my head towards him. 

"My name. Right here." His fingers press into my hip. 

"You'd like me to get 'Jackass' tattooed on my body?" 

He pinches my flesh. "Josh Lyman's Property. That's what it will say," he replies huskily. I kiss his bicep. 

"Matching tattoos." I kiss the inside of his elbow. 

"You want to leave your mark on me?" I crawl up his body, breathing into his ear. I take his earlobe into my mouth, just to see him squirm. 

"My mark is all over you," I tell him, settling into his side. His hand slips into my boxers and rubs my ass. "Mmm... what about piercing my belly button. Is that hot, Josh." He breathes his response into my ear, his hand leaving my ass and gracefully exploring my wet folds. 

"I'll show you hot." Then, "Okay, that was just stupid. I'm busy right now, I can't really be expected to bring the--" 

"What if I got my clit pierced." His fingers hurry there, and his breathing becomes heavy in my ear. 

"Is that safe?" he gasps. 

"Did it give you a nice image?" He nods, smiling, as he kisses down my neck. "I'm not actually going to do it." He pulls my boxers down. "I... uh... why does it make you hot to think of me tattooed or pierced?" 

He pulls his tongue out of me, and I sigh disappointedly. "Why does it make you hot?" Thankfully, he returns his tongue to just where it should be. 

"If I was pierced -- hmm -- right there, I would be considerably hot right now." 

He moves his mouth off of me, but he's still close enough that I can feel his breath. My hips buck closer to his face. "You're not considerably hot right now?" He lowers his mouth again. 

"Uhh... Josh. Yeah. I am... oh, right th-- There would be... more sensation... if my clit was pierced. Although... I don't know... ohhhhh... if more sen... sensation is possib-- oh, Josh." 

I love when he takes his time. He just seems to enjoy himself so much. I look down at him, my hands weaved through his hair. He is trying to please me, a completely erotic thought that can be separated from oral sex, but who would really want to separate them? He's making these little noises of contentment. And for a very complicated man who never seems satisfied, the fact that going down on me can make him feel content makes me feel happy. 

Also, extremely aroused. 

Josh does thing with his tongue, I'm not sure if I can explain it. What's important to note is that it's a very skilled trick and I feel quite fortunate to have his tongue doing what it's doing. When my orgasm finishes flooding through my body, his eyes flick upwards to me. I give him a tired but extremely relaxed smile. He crawls up my body and lays his head on my chest. I take a moment to catch my breath, and feel our chests rise and fall together. I push him off of me so he's on his back. "My turn," I announce, slowly straddling his hips. 

Josh looks up at me. "This isn't information I like to give out, but you're going to be disappointed. I'm pretty worn out." 

"We'll be fine," I tell him, yawning. 

He pulls me down, and he kisses me. "You're practically asleep." 

I roll off of him, throwing one arm across his abdomen. "Did that cool you down?" 

"Surprisingly, yes." He strokes my hair for a minute until I begin to hear him snore. 

+++++ 

When he comes, he moans my name and clutches my breasts. I have my third orgasm of the morning. 

This constitutes a VERY nice morning. 

Josh slides out of me and lays on his back, trying to catch his breath. 

I turn my head to give him a lazy smile. I'm sort of frozen in the position I was in. That was... good. 

I lower myself so I'm laying on my stomach, my head still turned to him. 

I open my mouth to tell him how extraordinary that was, when my sister shatters my post-coital moment by screaming, "DONNAAAAA!" 

"Maybe if I ignore her she'll disappear." 

"You better go see what she needs," he tells me, dropping a kiss on my shoulder before rolling away from me. "I suggest you put on socks or something." 

I roll out of bed, grabbing for Josh's t-shirt. While I'm leisurely pulling it on, it occurs to me that my pregnant sister may be screaming for some important reason. Suddenly, I haul ass to her room. 

I find her laying on the bed, her laptop propped on her stomach. "I wasn't sure if I could be heard over the lovemaking. I'm sorry I yelled," she says sweetly. 

"Isabella, I sprinted," I reply, irritated. "And as a side note, Josh had absolutely no care for your well-being." 

"Maybe he knew this was a special scream aimed at you. So how has your morning been?" 

I fail at suppressing a smile. "It's been pleasant." 

She closes her laptop, and lays it next to her. "Yes, I know. Ask me why I know." 

I roll my eyes. 

"The walls of this apartment are quite thin, for your information. And if my wife is in Switzerland and I can't be having orgasms too, can we make this an orgasm-free zone?" 

"I have some words for you. Christmas? You and Kate? HAVING SEX IN THE BED NEXT TO MINE!" 

Izzie chuckles. "That was fun." 

"Isabella. We're going to have to set some ground rules. Number one--" 

"Oh, calm down, Donna. I need a favor." 

I sigh, settling on the edge of the bed. "Yes." 

"I need, like, five minutes with the President." 

I nod for a moment. "Let me tell you why that can't happen." 

"I know you can arrange it. If I can just speak to him about Congressman Skinner's amendment, I know I would--" 

"He has advisors, he does not meet with special interests groups, and I certainly can't get you into see him." 

She sighs, which makes me realize how alike our sighs are. "Maybe Josh could--" 

I close my eyes, tilting my head back. "Please don't put him in that position." 

"What position is that?" she asks. I look at her and notice the devious glint in her eyes. 

I reach out and smooth my hand over her belly. "He called you his sister-in-law last night. Not that it wasn't a frightening basket of muffins to hear him say that, but it was sort of sweet. He takes family very seriously," I tell her, shrugging. 

She looks into my eyes, and her expression softens. "Frightening basket of muffins?" 

"Yeah, I don't know. I'm a little loopy." I push loose strands of hair behind her ear. "I'm serious, though. Don't do this to him." 

"Of course not." I get off the bed, smiling down at her. "JOSH!" 

I wince. I suppose I should have seen this coming. I hear him fall off the bed, and mumble obscenities. 

Huh, the walls ARE rather thin. 

He stumbles in, pulling a t-shirt over his head. "I thought... maybe one of you attacked the other." He looks us both over. 

"No, we're fine. I need five minutes with the President." 

Josh looks to me and I shrug. "Isabella, can I ask why?" 

A smile curves on her lips. "Feel free." 

"It's about the thing." He shifts uncomfortably, and stands against the wall. "Let me explain why that isn't possible." 

She looks at us, disgusted. "God, even Kate and I don't talk like each other." She pauses. "This is important legislation, and he needs to hear from someone--" 

"He has heard from people. He's done! We're not going to comment," Josh says sharply. 

Izzie looks like she wants to object, but she pulls her glasses on instead. She picks up her laptop and opens it. "I have some work to do." 

I drag Josh out of the room and back to bed. "I didn't mean that to sound so heartless," he tells me. 

I curl up next to him, my leg threaded between his legs. "She can't ask that of you." 

"But I should've listened." I pull back so I can look at his face. I'm perplexed. "I should have... I'm sure she has valid points." 

"I'm lying in bed with you. This is what you want to talk about." He leans over to kiss me, and I smile. 

"It gets to me. But I'll think about it tomorrow." 

"That sounds good, Scarlett." 

"Scarlett?" 

"Scarlett O'Hara." 

"Oh. Hey! I think I might be insulted." He winds his arms around my body and I relax into his embrace. It's so easy to feel comfortable like this. 

"I never thought through love we'd be/Making one as lovely as she..." 

My head pops up. "Is the radio on?" 

Josh shakes head. "There's no radio." His looks at me turn strange. "You okay?" 

I flop onto my back, staring at our ceiling. Our ceiling. 

"I keep hearing this Stevie Wonder song," I begin. Josh starts to laugh. "May I continue?" He closes his lips tightly, raising his eyebrows at me. "I keep hearing it. It's haunting me. And I'm the only one who hears it. It keeps hitting me at these certain moments." 

"Like when?" 

"That isn't important." 

"Ah-kay." 

I look into his eyes. "I keep hearing 'Isn't She Lovely.' And I don't..." My eyes close in on his right shoulder. "I don't... it's not that..." He hasn't spoken yet. He's just listening to me. 

This is different. 

"Let me say this first: I'm not ready to have a baby. We are not ready for that kind of responsibility and you're going to need to grow up a bit more before you have a child." My eyes dart to his. 

Josh's mouth is hanging open slightly, like there's something he's desperate to say but knows will be a mistake. I squint. His mouth closes. 

"At the same time, I keep hearing this song, and the thought of a baby \-- our baby -- is pretty irresistible. I like the thought. It's a nice thought." I shut my eyes. I don't want to see the reaction on his face. 

"Donna," he says softly. 

I open one eye, squinting at him with the other. I can't read his face, so I pull the sheet over my head. 

+++++ 

"Why are you hiding in there?" I ask. I look to what I suppose is her face, and I pat where her stomach should be. She's not saying anything. I can only hear her making these exaggerated sighs. "You don't want to name our child Aisha, do you?" More silence. 

"Donna," I say again. 

She won't resurface from under the sheet, so I move to be under there with her. "So this is different." 

"Can't you leave me alone in my mortification?" she manages before turning away from me. 

I wish I was following her convoluted train of thought. "What are you mortified about?" She answers by mumbling into the mattress. 

I pull the sheet off of both of us, and look at the bare skin of her back that was exposed when she twisted away from me. I touch her back, and she flinches immediately. "Talk to me," I implore. 

Donna is still for a moment. Finally, she shifts slowly so she's facing me. "I'm not ready for a baby," she reminds me. I nod. "You are not ready for a baby, either." 

"One could also say we are collectively unprepared for a child." I prepare to duck a slap, but she just smoothes the hair on the top of my head. "There should be a time frame for this." 

She looks at me like I'm insane. "Why?" I shrug, shifting closer to her. "Josh, we have time." 

"Sure," I reply,"But I'd like to have kids before I qualify for the AARP." 

Donna looks away, becoming very thoughtful. She closes the space between us, laying her head against my chest. I can feel her inhale, ready to respond. 

"We don't have anything for breakfast," she tells me. 

"Uhh... okay. Do you want me to--" 

"No, I'll go pick something up," she says, kissing my chest and rolling out of bed. She rummages through her drawers, retrieving jeans and a shirt. She pulls off her t-shirt and boxers, and suddenly she's naked. I think about how different her body would look if she was pregnant. 

And I smile as I watch her dress. She gives me a weird look as she bends down to kiss me. Before I can say anything, she's out the door. 

I lay there for a moment until I hear the front door close. And I lay there a little longer, trying to figure out what just happened in that two minute whirlwind. 

I get up, for no particular reason. I hunt around for sweatpants, and pull them on as I wince. My muscles ache from great sex with my woman, and I'm reminded that I'm not as young as I used to be. I walk out of the bedroom, stretching as I go. 

"Josh," I hear, and I turn to look at Izzie who is still laying in bed. "Would you mind helping me up?" 

I hesitate, wanting to avoid her but knowing I can't. "Sure." I enter the guest bedroom slowly. 

"Come on, Josh, I won't bite." She holds out her arms and I help her maneuver out of bed. 

"Now what?" 

"Well, that depends. Can you get me time with the President?" 

I look away. "No." 

"Okay, then I'm going to continue being pissed off at you." She waddles away from me, down the hall to the kitchen. "Do you have any more orange juice?" she asks over her shoulder. 

"Donna went to buy... something. And I think it's ridiculous that you're upset with me." I follow her down the hall. "His time is very valuable, Isabella. I can't just dispense five minutes to every person who wants to meet with him like it's candy. It's important that he only--" 

"It's not an important issue for this administration, I get it," she says, rifling through my fridge. 

"No," I correct. "It's very important, but talking to him for a few minutes is not going to change the White House's position--" 

"I know differently, Josh," she interrupts. "He's been known to change his mind quickly after speaking with someone." 

"He hasn't been briefed on this issue, Izzie." I start the coffee. 

"Can I have five minutes with him after he's briefed?" Suddenly, she puts both hands on her stomach, and grimaces. Izzie takes a long, deep breath before opening her eyes. When she looks at me, she's seeing a very panicked man. "Sometimes," she says with clenched teeth, "The baby kicks with a vengeance. She's feisty." 

I feel frozen as she shakes her head. "Do you... can I--" 

"Help me sit down, and if you could just get me a glass of water..." I take one arm and help her lower into a kitchen chair. She looks bewildered as I pour her water and set it in front of her hastily. I sit down next to her. "Josh, I'm fine, I probably won't implode." 

I didn't need to be told that, but somehow I find that relaxing, and I sigh. "You're going to be such a nervous father. I can tell." 

I slouch in my chair. "If we ever get to that point," I mutter, crossing my arms. 

Izzie cocks her head to the side and looks into my eyes in an annoying way. "Oh, is Joshie sad because Donna won't fall over herself to get knocked up?" 

I stare back at her. "You have a terrible way of being wrong and saying it in an incredibly blunt fashion." 

She snorts. "I'm not wrong. You like getting your way, and she's refusing to--" 

"Donna doesn't want to talk about it. It's like she's... scared. Even to discuss it." I'm suddenly aware of how much I've just opened up to Isabella, and that decision starts to feel blaringly idiotic. "Anyway. It's fine. We'll figure it out together. Nothing to worry about." 

"Donna doesn't get scared. She's fearless." Izzie finishes her water, and holds her glass out to me. 

I take it, moving towards the sink. "She gets scared." 

"Are you kidding? She drove halfway across the country, with no job, no place to live, and a shitty car." She shakes her head. "Fucking fearless." 

I hand her the glass of water. "She left that guy. Her options weren't exactly overflowing." 

Izzie takes a sip and glares at me. "She may make mistakes, but it's not because she's stupid. She just... does things. She's brave, and I admire her. She has more guts than you and I will ever have. We took the easy way out. Undergrad, law school. Can you imagine deviating from that? With MY parents?" She looks at the floor, a small smile developing on her face. When she looks up, she looks wistful. "Following your heart so freely? I mean, sure, the guy was a dick, but she just did what she felt she had to do. She said, I think he's worth it and I'm willing to take a risk." She sighs, finishing her second glass of water. "Anyway, I adore that." 

"What I love about her is not that she makes mistakes, but when she does it, she does it at full speed, you know? It's so... admirable." I smile at that thought. 

"Josh," she says, sliding the glass towards me. I move to pick it up, but she waves her hand. "I don't mean to put you in an awkward position." She shrugs, her face falling into a frown. "This is my job. And we're looking at important legislation that may have an impact. This isn't for a special population. We're talking about advancing civil rights by giving equality to everyone..." She trails off, putting her hand on my arm. "We can all be better." 

Early on, my relationship with Donna was characterized by others as being a sibling-like situation. I felt clueless in that respect; I don't remember what it was like to have a sister. 

Right now, I'm feeling guilt. I'm feeling emotionally responsible to Isabella, and I'm feeling a strong need to protect her from any hurt. I'm also partially annoyed by her sense of entitlement. Is this what it feels like to have a sister? 

I stand up. "Changes are going to take place. People will change. Just not now, not like this." I look towards the front door when I hear it open. 

"Dr. King said that injustice would never disappear by waiting until everyone was prepared for change," Isabella says quietly. 

Donna rushes into the living room, locking the door behind her. I look down to Izzie as I walk out of the kitchen. "You're right." I look up towards Donna striding to me. "We can all be better. Call your wife." 

+++++ 

"That was quick," he says as I yank him out of the kitchen. 

"We're going out for breakfast in five minutes, Izz," I call out over my shoulder. I pull Josh into our bedroom, shedding my wet t-shirt and pants. 

"This might take a little more than five minutes," he tells me as he shuts the door. 

I roll my eyes. "No, I'm just wet. I went outside and--" 

"We have strict rules in this home about not jumping through sprinklers, Donnatella." I find a sweatshirt and jeans, and I throw it in his direction. 

"I'm sure you'll be thrilled to discover that you sound exactly like my mother," I say, trying to find clothes for myself. "It was raining. I went outside and didn't realize it was raining. I ran to the car and got inside and..." I pause for a moment to pull my t-shirt over my head. "I just sat there." 

Josh walks over to me, looking through drawers for his socks. "I'm appreciating the story, James Mitchner, but you were gone for five minutes. What made you--" 

"I ran away from you because I didn't have any concrete answers," I interrupt. "I want to have kids, Josh, but I don't think I'm ready. There's so much that I want to do, and I won't be that mother with a full-time nanny and no time to spend with her children." I zip up my jeans, and sit next to him on the bed where he's pulling on socks. I slump against him. "I don't know where that leaves us. If you want kids now, we shouldn't... I'm not the right person for you." 

I can feel him resting against me as I support his weight. He throws one arm around my shoulders. "We'll have kids when the time is right." 

We're leaning into each other now, and I realize he never really addressed what I said. We get up, and he bends ever so slightly to kiss me. 

"Admit it. You didn't want to go grocery shopping, and you didn't want to cook." I open the door to our bedroom as we leave. 

"What? I'm a domestic goddess." We walk to the kitchen where we find Isabella on the phone with Kate. Her face is plagued by pure joy. 

I wrap one arm around Josh's waist. He kisses my temple in return. And we wait for my sister to finish her call. 

This isn't pure joy. This is something else, something unnamed. What I feel for Josh isn't perfect or simple. But it's this weight inside me, and by being with Josh, and living with Josh, the weight has begun to shift. 

It isn't perfect, but it's right. 

+end+ 


End file.
